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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047322">Misery loves Company</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Napping/pseuds/Napping'>Napping</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Humor, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Homelessness, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Really short something like:</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:20:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,389</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047322</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Napping/pseuds/Napping</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Buck freshly dropped out of the NAVY Seals, maybe sleeping in his car, definitely going to figure his life out by tomorrow.<br/>Eddie newly switched from soldier to firefighter, suddenly with an 8 year old son and no wife.<br/>Well.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Misery loves Company</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There is a knock on his window. Seriously, who even does that. Buck blinks an eye open and looks up from where his head is pressed into his pillow. In a better world, he could yell at whoever it is because there are just so many things wrong with knocking on strangers’ windows, right? Windows are personal. Doors, yes, Buck could excuse the door but the window? It just means whoever it is has already seen everything there is to see. They already have a picture of him in their minds now and there is no way it is positive. And while Buck can’t disagree with that, well, it is still rude.</p><p> </p><p>Buck rubs his eyes and peaks up at the police officer who looks at him with a somewhat trained indifference. Impersonal with a note of pity just playing underneath. Buck sits up and nods at him but doesn’t roll down the window because this is not a conversation he needs for the 12,000th time.</p><p> </p><p>”Yes!” He shouts and fights his instinct to pull his blanket over his chest like a middle aged woman getting out of bed after sex in a movie. He is neither naked nor does he lie in a bed. Or has been having sex. Oh, he wishes that would have been it. Buck sighs, he would have rather been caught sleeping with someone instead of - well. Sleeping, all on his own. ”I’m moving.”</p><p> </p><p>”You cannot sleep here,” the officer says and shines the light of his flashlight into Buck’s eyes for a second, obviously subtly checking if Buck was high or just another hopeless case.</p><p>Well then, built me a house? What kind of sentence is that.</p><p> </p><p>”I’m sorry!” Buck shouts instead of saying <em>Lick my balls </em>because what gives him the impression that Buck is just chilling here per his own choice. Like he woke up this morning and thought, <em>Wow! Today imma just sleep in my car somewhere I might get murdered!</em></p><p> </p><p>Buck smiles his most charming smile and nods at the cop one more time. He gets what Buck tries to get across and shakes his head. ”Next time there’s gonna be a ticket. You can’t park here,” he calls before he turns around and walks back to his car.</p><p> </p><p>Climbing from his back seat to the front seat in what he can only describe as graceless parkour, must look incredibly sexy but there is no-one here to see it. So what. Buck slaps the dashboard of his car and then turns the key in the ignition.</p><p> </p><p>The sound of his car starting is louder than the whale call of his empty stomach and in Buck’s book, that is a total win. He taps his fingers to the beat of <em>Staying Alive</em> on his steering wheel while he waits for the cars to pass so he can turn left.</p><p> </p><p>He looks at another car passing and then turns on his right blinker. Might as well. It isn’t like he has many places to be. Or any places. As far as his none existent calendar reminds him, he has to go and try to apply for at least 3 new jobs that won’t even consider taking him in and then he can just look around for another spot to park.</p><p> </p><p>The sun burns down so hot by noon, he needs to stop in the parking lot of a super market just so he doesn’t accidentally cook himself alive. He can’t be the first cooked thing he’s had close to him in a year, now how sad would that be.</p><p> </p><p>The sky is blue, not a cloud anywhere and well, <em>fuck you too</em>. Buck taps on his steering wheel, not quite knowing what to do now. He could go and buy some food but he isn’t that hungry yet. He looks around. There are people running around, pushing full shopping carts. Disrespectful. He bets they go home to big cozy houses with furniture matching their wall colours.</p><p> </p><p>Buck wipes sweat off his forehead and looks around some more. Maybe tomorrow he’ll figure it all out. Yeah, that sounds like a plan. He nods to himself and turns his car back on. Tomorrow everything will be better. He doesn’t get as far as a few feet before his car beeps and the low gas light comes on. Buck shakes his head and drives out of the parking lot. ”Yeah, you are not the only one who is thirsty,” he says and taps his dashboard like his car would hear him and drive on will power and sheer desperation alone, which, really seems like the only thing he can provide right now.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>”I’ll ask my manager,” the young, distantly bored looking teenager behind the counter says and nods at him like he sees Buck as an 70 year old grump who needs to be addressed with <em>Sir</em> or he will throw a fit.</p><p> </p><p>”I appreciate it!” Buck calls after him as if that can change anything. He looks around the bar, all waiter look like they are barely 20, <em>tops</em>. And while Buck is not 70, thank you very much, he is certainly older than all of them. When did that happen? When he grew up it was respect your elders here and be respectful there and now? Nothing but disrespect for him. And he isn’t even old, even if the hipster in the washed out skinny jeans seems to think so. These are supposed to be the years he looks back on in nostalgia but he is just so tired of them.</p><p> </p><p>”Yes?” The manager looks like he has just graduated high school, like, this morning. He might as well still be wearing his gown. He looks Buck up and down. ”You wanted to speak with me?”</p><p> </p><p>Buck smiles and nods. Always smile and nod. If there is anything he is good at, it’s bullshitting people as well as charm them. ”Yes, I sent in an application for the night shift job? I haven’t heard anything back yet, so I thought I would check.”</p><p> </p><p>The manager blinks at him and then narrows his eyes. Buck steps forward and extents his hand because his mother might not have been the mother of any year ever, but she did not raise him to be impolite. Sure, he ended up alone, broke and sleeping in his car with literally no hope for a better future, but with manners. Which he really hopes will be enough to feed him in the near future because this is not going to end well. Buck’s kind of an expert on disasters and this is just begging to become one.</p><p> </p><p>”Evan Buckley,” he says and smiles again.</p><p> </p><p>”Oh!” The kid says and shakes his hand quickly with what feels like no strength at all. Buck can’t believe he even noticed this. Maybe he really is just that old now. ”Yeah, we normally answer postally but there was no address listed on your application.”</p><p> </p><p>”A phone number, though!” Buck says with a little laugh that he doesn’t even know how he’s found the energy for.</p><p> </p><p>”Yeah,” the manager says, his answering smile tighter than Buck’s monthly budget. ”Right.”</p><p> </p><p>Well, Buck knows a <em>Fuck you</em> when it’s all but spelled out. He takes a deep breath and strains his face with all the force he has not to let the smile drop. There is dignity or something he could at least preserve, or something. It doesn’t keep him from being hungry but it is the only thing his father ever thought of as important so let’s keep at least that, right.</p><p> </p><p>”I worked as a bartender before,” Buck adds, because he has totally mixed Fanta and Cola before, somewhere, and he also absolutely has thrown a lemon slice into a drink and that sounds like job experience to him. He waits for another second and then half turns to the door already. This is only a semi optional place for a major freak out and it’s the one thing he has standards about.</p><p> </p><p>”Yeah.” There is a look shot between the manager and the current barrister and Buck doesn’t need to be in their mental conversation to know that he is being judged and found wanting. Well, they should see his health care plan if they really wanted something to belly laugh about. ”Right. I’ll look over your application again.”</p><p>Buck knows bullshit when he sees it. He nods. ”Thank you for your consideration,” he smiles and leaves before either of them can say anything else. At least nothing is getting in the way of him perfecting the absolute train wreck his life represents.</p><p> </p><p>Well, the win in this is that he has one out of five of these talks over for today.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Number two and three act like they have never seen his application to begin with. Number 4 promised they would call on their earliest convenience and just the fact that people worry about their conveniences while he has to decide whether to feed his car or himself, is making him want to drink his car’s petrol, just a little bit. A really intensive little bit.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And you see, Buck knows that there are no winners here and that is no one’s fault, but really he blames his car. So what he ignored the light for gas for a while? No reason for his car to die on him so suddenly. He is only a few miles from Number 5 when his car makes a peeping sound and dies dramatically in an And The Oscar Goes To situation. Buck panically steers onto some free parking space in front of a house, because some people can afford to have whole ass houses, so what, as the last light in his car turns off and the motor dies with one last <em>puff, </em>which Buck can only second.</p><p> </p><p>He leans his forehead against his steering wheel and holds his breath. Well, fuck.</p><p> </p><p>Fuck.</p><p> </p><p>He breathes out and looks out of the window. The sun is just setting. He shrugs and rubs his eyes. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will get gas and then figure his life out right after.He yawns settles his head against the window. It’s still so hot in his car, it feels like he is breathing his oxygen in pudding-substance. Who is he to complain, though, that is the closest he’s been to food all day long.</p><p> </p><p>His dreams are haunted by the sound of gun fire. They are tinted in a burning orange around the edges. The aching of his stomach keeps him just in the stage between sleep and awareness. He is pretty sure, somewhere in his brain there is also a low-gas light on but he is going to be okay. Tomorrow he will figure it out. He won’t go to sleep hungry. He knows it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A knock to his window startles him awake. He rubs his eyes. ”Yes! I am moving!” He shouts before he opens his eyes and finds that it's still pitch dark outside. Well, that is a new one. A <em>worse </em>one and who is he to be surprised about that.</p><p> </p><p>”Please hurry!” The man outside of his window shouts back. He is partly illuminated by a street lamp. Buck doesn’t know if the fact that he is not police is better or worse for him but he can take a hard guess.</p><p> </p><p>Buck reaches out to turn his key in the ignition and then stops. <em>Fuck</em>. He closes his eyes for a second and wishes to maybe, please, just disappear right now. Not even necessarily only from theparking space, more like from the whole earth in general.</p><p> </p><p>Wow, he can’t wait to make this poor man’s day a lot worse because he can’t figure his shit out.</p><p> </p><p>”But I was here first,” Buck says and decides to ignore that he sounds like a 5 year old right now. He has a good reason.</p><p> </p><p>The man pinches bridge of his nose like Buck’s existence is so much of an inconvenience he needs to hold onto something. He looks like he has to deal with childish arguments so often, he is doesn’t even have to think about what to answer. ”And I pay two shit tons of money for that space. It’s residence only.” He makes an opening gesture to the whole of the parking space and then points with both of his thumbs to himself. ”It’s a <em>Me</em> only.”</p><p> </p><p>Well, shit. Buck doesn’t doubt it. That doesn’t put petrol into his car but he really feels with the man. Trust his car to die on a private parking space. Of course.</p><p> </p><p>”So,” he starts and then opens his car door and stumbles out of his truck because the only alternative is to sit in there awkwardly while the other man just stands there. And also, it’s always better to have eye contact when you are about to ruin somebody’s night, it’s basic human decency.</p><p> </p><p>The man raises his eyebrows and looks confusedly to where Buck closes the door of his truck and leans against it. ”What?” He asks, sounding bewildered and, frankly, a little bit done with his life and well, Buck can relate. ”Are you gonna voodoo it out of my parking space, dude?” He sure <em>wishes</em> he could. </p><p>Buck can’t wait to see if he can charm his way out of this one. The man in front of him is a little bit smaller than him but he looks like he is ready to go down fighting at any given time, that’s just Buck’s luck, really. Let’s see how fast his day can be ruined by starting a conversation with Hey you know how fish sometimes get washed up on the shore? - yeah about that.</p><p> </p><p>”I can’t go,” Buck says and when the man just looks at him like he is convinced Buck forgot his brain in the trunk of his car, he adds: ”I‘m too drunk.” Because, sadly, that would be less of a problem. It shows him in a better light than the ugly truth that is already making itself clear. Really, if the man was as observant as he is obviously ready to kick Buck’s ass, so hard his car moves away out of sheer respect and fear, he would see it. Would see Buck’s rambled shirt and a little too long hair, his, at <em>least,</em> 12 o’clock shadow<em>. </em>There are many pieces here that are not hard to connect at all. This isn’t a 3,000 puzzle in complete all black. It’s more of a connect the numbers for years 2 and down.</p><p> </p><p>The man does look many shades of angry and one of them is definitely <em>not impressed</em>. ”I have a kid in there,” he all but growls and Buck knows a poked bear when he sees it. ”You have got to be kidding me.”</p><p> </p><p>”I’m sorry,” Buck says because he really is. It isn’t going to move his car or anything so it isn’t really worth much, but he really is sorry. His life is a whole mess and sometimes it spills into other people’s lives and he really doesn’t mean to do that.</p><p>Buck is sure he cannot charm his way out of this one but it is not like he has any other ideas or tricks, so. ”I’m Buck.”</p><p> </p><p>Somebody is really, <em>really </em>not impressed. ”Okay,” the man says and looks over at Buck’s truck. ”Move.”</p><p> </p><p>Go figure that he strands on the parking space of somebody with thin patience. Really, the man looks ready to hulk Buck’s truck out of there with his bare hands.</p><p> </p><p>”I can’t!” Buck insists and frowns when he hears how high his voice sounds. Why is he all but <em>whining</em>, what the hell. What a good way to show that he is not insane or an immediate danger to the stranger’s kid.</p><p> </p><p>The man rolls his eyes so hard, Buck wonders if it may actually crack his skull. He blows out a breath and looks Buck up and down again. ”Give me your keys.”</p><p> </p><p>Buck blinks and then finds himself clutching his keys to his chest. In defense of his maybe a tat dramatic reaction, it really is rude, this is his <em>house</em> he is talking about. Or well, it is the one thing that keeps him from literally sleeping on the streets. ”No, I won’t!” Buck says and waves his playing it cool kind of strategy goodbye and out of the conversation, apparently.</p><p> </p><p>”Just give them to me.” The man urges and steps closer to Buck. He doesn’t really sound threatening, more like really inconvenienced and so over this whole thing. Another thing that Buck really, from the bottom of his heart, can understand. It doesn’t get him or his car anywhere but he gets it.</p><p> </p><p>”I won’t give a stranger my car keys!” He says and hopes it sounds like he is just the normal level of paranoid and does not seem overly dramatic like he is living in his car or something. All of his belongings are in there. It might just be like $30, two blankets, an energy bar, gummy bears and half a liter of water but the point is valid all the same.</p><p> </p><p>The man pinches the bridge of his nose again and then looks up to the dark night sky like he is sending a call for help because he cannot stand to deal with Buck’s shit on his own. Well, get in line. ”Now don’t be so complicated, I can drive the car away for you just give me the keys.”</p><p> </p><p>Buck freezes because, yeah, wow, that is a good idea, a really perfect solution and makes such perfectly good sense, with really the only problem being that Buck is a liar - liar pants on fire kinda person and it really never does stop sucking to be caught in a lie.</p><p> </p><p>”You can’t,” he says slowly, stretching he words as long as he can, while he begs his brain to come up with a solution just for once.</p><p> </p><p>The stranger scoffs and looks from Buck’s truck to his own shinny black car that stands by the curb a few feet away. Buck hasn’t really paid attention to it yet. There is a dark blond haired boy leaning his head on the window, sound asleep. There is a little bumper sticker with the name of some school and a few crooked animal stickers all around it. People really just do have whole lives you don’t know anything about. Buck frowns and tries to ignore the bad feeling building in his stomach. He didn’t lie when he said that he is sorry. He doesn’t mean to make this man’s night harder. He still really truly believes that this is not on him, though.</p><p> </p><p>”I won’t steal your piece of crap truck.” Buck blinks and looks over to his truck that yes, may have seen better days but still he feels like there is no reason to call him out on it. <em>That is my house, sir!</em></p><p> </p><p>”Rude,” Buck says and adds nothing more because really, there is nothing to say in his defence. This may be the only thing he has and all that but, yeah, he knows a lost battle when he all but lies on his back dying.</p><p> </p><p>The man’s shoulders slump down a little which really surprises Buck so much, he forgets to feel bad for a second. He doesn’t know what exactly changed but the man seems to have dropped a few layers of his anger that has obviously began to build up back when they started this conversation.</p><p>
  
</p><p>”I’m sorry,” the man says and sounds honest and kind and that’s just really sexy of him. "But, come on.”</p><p> </p><p>Buck would love to <em>come on</em>. He really would. He would give a few years of his life away if in exchange he could move his car away. The man doesn’t deserve this. Buck just cannot change it.</p><p> </p><p>The stranger rubs his hands together and then up his arms. Buck hadn’t even noticed how cold it has gotten. ”Man, please,” he adds when Buck just looks at him silently because there is nothing for him to say here. ”I’ve got a kid I gotta get to bed. I just got out of a 24 hour shift at work. I just want to eat something and sleep. You are blocking the space.”</p><p> </p><p>Buck also really just wants to eat something and sleep. Unfortunately, his Bed&amp;’Breakfast is not going anywhere. <em>Damnit</em>.</p><p> </p><p>”We can’t move the truck,” Buck admits silently and looks down. He makes it a We problem because somehow he really did manage to spin this poor soul into his messy life.</p><p> </p><p>”We can’t move the truck,” he repeats completely deadpan. He doesn’t sound surprised, though. As if there had been a part of him that has known all along that this would not be a Reverse, Turn, Drive kind of situation.</p><p> </p><p>And yet, Buck is somehow glad because that means that the stranger won’t go into his truck. He didn’t clean up. There are the shirts and shoes and wrappers and the blanket on the back seat and it’s all just a little too obviously painting a sad realism - art like picture. Great depression history lesson right there. </p><p> </p><p>Buck drops his casual, charming expression. He needs to drop truth bombs right now, as much as he wishes he wouldn’t have to. ”I’m out of petrol. I’ve got none. I’m sorry, I was going to walk to the gas station tomorrow-” and then he shut himself the fuck up, before saying something dumb like that he was tired because how would he explain that he was still in his car then. Exactly.</p><p> </p><p>”You are out of gas?” The stranger says dubiously and then closes his eyes for a second as if this whole conversation is making him so tired he needs to rest his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Buck nods and tries to sound as much like a person who the other man definitely should not kill over this as possible. ”Not a drop,” he confirms and looks to the ground. There is no reason for this to feel as embarrassing as it does but wow, he feels so stupid. How did that even happen?</p><p> </p><p>The man sighs and rubs his hand over his forehead. ”Yeah, okay, well.”</p><p> </p><p>Buck couldn’t agree more.</p><p> </p><p>”I’ll pay for it if you get a ticket for parking on the street,” Buck hurries to add, as if he is somebody with money to throw around. He can barely afford half a meal a day but who is he to tell a stranger that.</p><p> </p><p>”Man,” the other man says with the voice of an overthrown king. Yeah, somebody here accepted his defeat. He looks over his shoulder to his car that is still staying innocently at the curb. ”There are no hotels near here. Do you wanna call a cab?”</p><p> </p><p>Haha, the guy thinks Buck can afford a cab. He can’t even afford a place for the cab to take him to.</p><p> </p><p>”I’ll just sleep here, what is one night, right?” It’s exactly what he thought a year ago and well. What is one night? The beginning of 378 more, apparently. But that is another thing the man doesn’t need to know. ”I’m really sorry.” Saying sorry doesn’t fix his life, it doesn’t undo things and it does not put fucking petrol in his car but he really hopes that the stranger understands that Buck really means it.</p><p> </p><p>The man’s lips are downturned and he looks between Buck and his car like he is in the middle of not being able to care less and really unhappy with the knowledge that Buck has to sleep in there. The ugly truth of it would probably blow him off his feet. The last little bit of his anger also seems to disappear like he just realised that yeah, maybe he shouldn’t be making more problems for the person who is going to sleep in his car for the night. Some people can be, like, nice and all and just how surprised Buck is about it, probably says a lot about him.</p><p> </p><p>The man sighs again. ”Yeah, okay,” he says finally and then gazes up to the sky. It really is a cold night, it may even rain later. ”I’ll get you some blankets.”</p><p> </p><p>Buck waves him off before he can think too much about it, because he is an idiot apparently. ”I have blankets, I’ll be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>”Enough blankets to sleep?” The stranger frowns. The answer is no, but Buck has had time to get used to it, so.</p><p> </p><p>Buck blinks and tries not to look to the pile of blankets on his backseat. He can’t lead the man’s attention to it. ”Yeah, I got some old ones in the trunk, I think,” he lies his ass off and shrugs casually.</p><p> </p><p>”A pillow then? I can bring you one, just wait,” the man says and turns to walk to his house before stopping and walking back to his own car, shaking his head. Buck wants to disagree and somehow convince the man that he has all he needs without sounding like he is, well, homeless. But there is something about the determined wrinkle between his eyebrows that tells Buck to just shut up. He looks like he won’t be able to sleep as long as he doesn’t know that he has made sure that Buck is gonna be okay.</p><p> </p><p>The man opens his car door and picks his sleeping child up. Buck stands awkwardly by the side and just watches.</p><p> </p><p>”Good night,” Buck says after a beat because he just can’t shut up, apparently.</p><p> </p><p>The stranger nods and runs a careful hand over his sons head. ”I’m Eddie, by the way,” he says quietly and shoots Buck a tired smile, that is way more than he deserved. <em>Eddie </em>looks really tired. He does not deserve to have to deal with all of this. ”I’ll bring a pillow down after I put Chris to sleep.”</p><p>”Thank you.” There is really nothing other to say. Eddie nods and walks to his front door. Buck wishes he could make a run for it but well if he could, he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. He has the urge to call <em>Sorry I am a disaster </em>after Eddie but he really should let sleeping dogs lie or something. Eddie already knows he is a train wreck of a person, how could he not.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eddie’s pillow smelled like flowery soap and nothing else and Buck doesn’t remember ever sleeping this comfortably. In his car, at least. He slept well, even if his back still feels like it’s completely on fire, the knots in it multiplying and reminding him that he is not as flexible as he used to be and also that really, your body just never gets used to sleep on a backseat. And his leg, always agreeing, always feeling like it just craves all the attention, hurting more with every turn he does. But other than that, really, the pillow made him forget for a minute that his life is a mess. There is a soapy smell and his head rests so comfortably for a second he just has hope.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He is woken up by Eddie knocking on his window and then gets greeted by the sight of a ticket that he presses against the glass with a smug smile. Buck rubs his eyes. It really just is funny that Eddie can smile about that because <em>haha</em> for him it is like $15 and something close to an inside joke. Hilarious, in the way really, really sad things are when you’ve been crying about it long enough. Like, ha hahaha my life is shit. He can smile about it because $15 are nothing for him. He would probably normally pay over his nutritiously balanced breakfast and not even think about it twice. For Buck, though, this looks a little different. Suspiciously like bankruptcy, to be precise.</p><p> </p><p>Buck stretches as much as he can in his car and then opens the door with a little smile of his own.He really just is a <em>Fake it till you make it </em>kinda asshole. ”Good morning,” he says cheerfully and ignores the about 20 bones that crack all over his body. A bit dramatic, if you asked him, like, it’s been a year, get used to it.</p><p> </p><p>”Morning, thief,” Eddie grins and shoves the ticket at him. Buck takes it and tries not to let it show on his face that he is just calculating what he needs to cut out of his dinner plan to somehow get the $15 for this. Crazy world and all that.</p><p> </p><p>Buck laughs and doesn’t look at the numbers on it. What he can’t see can’t hurt him or something. ”I’m really sorry, again,” Buck says and runs a hand over the back of his head. This just is an all time low for him, somehow. Really, how does he even manage to reach new lows, it’s honestly wildly impressive.</p><p> </p><p>”As you should be.”</p><p> </p><p>Buck feels like what he should be is being offended about that or maybe more defensive but Eddie really has a sweet and little wicked smile and apparently it’s sleep that makes the world go round because he does not look angry anymore in the slightest. That and Buck will also say that he also charmed the guy into liking him more. There is no evidence for it but also nothing that begs to differ so who is gonna take that from him.</p><p> </p><p>”Now, now, hit the brakes,” Buck waves him off and smoothes out his shirt that really doesn’t stand a chance. It’s more of just one big master wrinkle instead of a few small ones all over. Obviously.</p><p> </p><p>”No,” Eddie laughs and points to his truck. ”You gotta hit the accelerator.”</p><p> </p><p>Buck could hit it until it hits him back and his truck would still not move an inch but that is old news. Over and done and Buck starts to be quite over it. ”Tell me where to get petrol and it’ll be like I’ve never even been here to begin with.”</p><p> </p><p>”I have a ticket right here that proves otherwise.” Eddie deadpans stuff a lot.</p><p> </p><p>”And I have a knot in my back the size of Texas now but you don’t see me complaining.” To be fair, this ache in his back has been there for about 12 months now but Eddie doesn’t know that.</p><p> </p><p>”I’m from Texas!”</p><p> </p><p>”Perfect, then you know how big it is.” Buck smiles at him sweetly and then braces a hand against his back as if it was hurting so bad he has to make sure his spine doesn’t escape. He must look like he is at least 65 years old and should be getting Medicare instead of Medicaid but since he is getting neither anyway, he can just let this go. Let’s not make social services a thing in this since social services aren’t making him a thing for them either. Haha. Buck really knows how he can hurt his own feelings.</p><p> </p><p>”You know what else is big?” Eddie says and smiles and Buck’s brain flatlines for a second here because, why yes, attractive dude who saved his ass last night, who seems to have it all, it would only make sense that he was also well endowed, right? But coming out with it out of nowhere like this? Well, Buck can appreciate openness but there is a part of him that reminds him that he has made a pact with himself that he is not going to have more random hook ups anymore since there is always a limit for everything. There is always a tipping point and it is all good and Buck felt nice and floaty, and everything is good and well and sweaty and dirty and then suddenly, his brain had supplied something else. Sex addiction. Scary. Obviously, it is not something he has had confirmed by a therapist because yeah, right, if he could afford a therapist, he could also afford to have a sex addiction, but it felt too much like it for his comfort. Too close. Honestly, what is he supposed to do if he caught an STD? Die, he guesses, cause there’s no way he could afford anything else.</p><p> </p><p>Before he can open his mouth and say any of that and then maybe end up sucking Eddie off after all because, and he doesn’t know how or why, it sounds like that would be a good life decision. As if it would change him as a person in a re birth kinda style, Eddie laughs and shakes his head.</p><p> </p><p>”That sounded so dirty!” He says and Buck only raises his eyebrows like he hasn’t even noticed that it did. Get your mind out of places you can’t afford it to be in, damnit. ”I meant the way to the gas station. It’s big.”</p><p>”<em>Far,</em> if you will,” Buck supplies because how dare Eddie to send him in a whole debate about whether or not fucking Eddie would break his resolutions when he is so sure it would be worth it. How dare he not even give Buck the chance to make his own mistakes. When his brain finally lets go of all the mental pictures, though, and arrives in the here and now, Buck blinks and his shoulders slump down. ”Aw, it’s far?”</p><p> </p><p>”Hope you had a big dinner cause you are gonna need a lot of energy to get there,” Eddie nods and he sounds like a little shit as well as if he is actually pitying Buck.</p><p> </p><p>Buck’s dinner has been a whole lot of hot air and gummy bears, so he can really just hope that that is gonna cut it. ”I’ll survive.” Maybe. Probably. He survives worse every day because he is just that lucky.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie nods and takes the pillow Buck holds out to him. Buck only hesitates for a second too long to let it go. He feels it slip out of his finger tips and he swears, his whole world dims and turns a little bit more grey. He feels like it was easier to leave his parents behind than letting go of this pillow.</p><p> </p><p>”I would drive you.” Eddie rubs the back of his head with his free hand and actually looks bashful, like he is embarrassed and feels bad that he cannot drive the guy who has stolen his parking space for the night and made him get a parking ticket, around the city at ass o’clock in the morning after a 24 hour shift at work. Some people really have no self respect.</p><p>”But my kid is gonna be up soon and I promised him pancakes and it’s a whole thing.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Right</em>. Eddie also has a kid. He has a kid. Buck can barely afford to have himself.</p><p> </p><p>”Dude, don’t even worry. You already did more than you needed to do.” Since Eddie literally owed him nothing and after sleeping on his pillow, Buck feels like he owes him in return about 20 years of his life and definitely his first born if not also his second, that was a very generous thing to say. ”Really, just thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>”You are not welcome.” Eddie shoots back immediately, with a wicked smile that is Not sexy, no it’s not. Or, maybe, it has no business being <em>this </em>sexy but who is Buck to know how to analyse sentence components, right.</p><p> </p><p>Buck laughs and turns around. Better start walking so maybe he’ll be back by noon.</p><p> </p><p>”It’s the other way,” Eddie calls and Buck suddenly really, really wishes he won’t survive the way there.</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Paying the ticket hurt him on a deeper level but he got a receipt for it and he could use it as a tissue to dry his tears so really it is money well spent. Or something. He misses Eddie’s pillow when he goes to sleep, though. He should have asked where he got it from, in a totally non creepy, not desperate way.</p><p> </p><p>On Wednesdays and Sundays, Buck weeps the floors in a gym and it is arguably the best time in his week, which says a lot about the rest of his week and really little true things about his work. Frankly, mopping floors really sucked but at least he gets hot showers out of that and, oh, also the little money he has so he doesn’t starve, which makes the cleaning all the better. Everything seems better when the alternative is starving in your car, stinking.</p><p> </p><p>On Thursday he lies awake and regrets that he didn’t asked for the dumb pillow. He could have made it sound casual and not desperate, he is sure of it. Of course he could have. He made Eddie believe he spent only this one night accidentally sleeping in his car, he <em>so</em> could have asked him about the dumb pillow without raising his suspicion. Also, what would he care if Eddie knew he lived in his truck? So what.</p><p> </p><p>On Friday, Buck finds Eddie’s Facebook profile and stalks him a little because he is predictable like that. He also sends a picture off Eddie’s Facebook to his friend Tommy because even though there is nobody who knows how pathetic Buck’s life is, he can try and make it seem like he has interesting things going on. Tommy answers 6 hours later, saying <em>K. Is that what you want for Christmas from me? </em>Because Tommy is fun. Buck answers a quick <em>Yes, thanks. </em>And feels better about his life for a second or two.</p><p> </p><p>On Saturday he decides to <em>fuck it</em>. He is gonna get his groceries, which, yes, may consist of like water and whichever bread it the cheapest, maybe, and then drive over to Eddie’s dumb house and just ask. Boundaries only exist for people whose head doesn’t feel like it goes through all 5 stages of grief whenever they go to sleep.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Turns out he doesn’t even need to breach that level of creepiness, because he tries to get the bread into a bag and balance two water bottles and his purse and somehow still only has 2 arms for that even though right now it more feels like one, and when he looks up, there he is.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie pushes a shopping car and throws some cereal in it without even looking at the price, which really just is the biggest flex from where Buck is standing. He is wearing the most unspectacular black shirt and shorts and doesn’t look like he is sweating his ass off, which is another thing that is just rude because Buck’s shirt is being held together by sweat and good will at this point.</p><p> </p><p>Buck sorts the groceries on his arms, <em>carts, Buck, you see that? </em>and then stops in his tracks. What exactly is his plan? Ask him and then torture him if he doesn’t answer? Buck blinks and frowns, maybe he needs to eat before speaking to him.</p><p>He cradles his groceries to his chest as if they were a baby he doesn’t want to wake up and keeps on starring at Eddie, because why not also make all of this a lot weirder than it needs to be. Do you smile? Wave and smile? Wave, smile and say hello? What is the protocol for greeting people who have gotten a ticket because of you and let you sleep on their pillow, that was so soft your life didn’t suck for 6 hours, that one time?</p><p>
  
</p><p>”Hey!” Eddie calls, so apparently the protocol is wave, smile and <em>talk, </em>and even stops in front of him, like he was ready to have a conversation and really, it’s not fair that he has looks, a life, a house and social skills. Some people really have it all. ”Didn’t expect to see you here, considering I found a parking spot for my car.”</p><p> </p><p>See, that is funny. Because he also gets to have humor which unfortunately is a big red flag in people Buck may want to potentially call his friends some time in the future, because he is the funny one and he is also competitive. Eddie <em>cannot </em>have the life, job, house, kid, future, looks <em>and </em>be the funny one. Nah-ah.</p><p>Another thing about being the funny friends always, though, is that he normally doesn’t have to come up with specific witty comebacks, he can pick and chose when to sprinkle his jokes into conversations. This is a competition now and well, Buck has the whole day to establish his rank.</p><p> </p><p>”This sounds like a challenge to me.” Buck raises one of his eyebrows and picks a package of cheese, mozzarella or also called <em>wow! I cannot afford</em>, off the shelf, making a mental note to put it back later, to seem casual. What even would he want with mozzarella? In the end his body is gonna have standards and expectations and he is already fighting enough because beggars can’t be choosers kinda bullshit. Somebody really needs to tell that to his taste and also his stomach, that doesn’t have much but at least the absolute fucking nerve. Beggars can’t be lactose intolerant is more like it from where Buck is standing but who is he to have somebody to share his wisdom with.</p><p> </p><p>”Does it now?” Eddie also grabs a package of mozzarella and some part of Buck’s brain that has no business to even be awake right now supplied <em>Big Dick Energy</em> to that because why not. Is this flirting? It feels like flirting.</p><p> </p><p>Buck hums and plays off that he nearly drops all of his groceries. Eddie looks down to his full arms and then grins but as long as he doesn’t say anything about it, Buck can make himself believe that Eddie didn’t see it. He has always been good at denial, it’s his best asset after all. ”Yeah, you better watch out. Wouldn’t accidentally want to block your fancy, expensive, residents - only parking space again.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie shrugs and throws his cheese into his card and Buck knows a flex when he sees it. Joke’s still on Eddie because Buck could have a cart if he had wanted it, and, maybe, yes, if he had thought about it. But this way he is just training his arms. Just muscles Eddie is never gonna have.</p><p>”It wasn’t my wallet that had to pay for that.”</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, he isn’t wrong. Buck shrugs, like he doesn’t even miss the $15 anymore. ”Best money ever spent.”</p><p> </p><p>Absolutely. He loves to stand in the supermarket and see mozzarella in the same league as literally like 100 pounds of pure gold or a mansion on the Bahamas because both are on his Never Ever Affordable list. The world is really easy when you sort it into <em>Yes, I can buy that </em>and <em>Keep on dreaming</em>. Sadly, the pillow is totally the latter and then also opened a whole new category, which Buck does not appreciate at all. It is now the first member of <em>But I wanna!</em> And Buck knows having that at all is not good. Hopes and dreams and stuff, really just the first step into the wrong direction.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eddie throws his head back and laughs and his laugh is beautiful, deep and not too loud, and does not sound like a dying seal or an asthmatic cat. It’s a nice sound, because of course it is, Eddie really has it all. ”Whatever you say, man.”</p><p> </p><p>“My truck rested comfortably on your space, what can you do.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie laughs again and shakes his head. ”Don’t get any ideas.” He points with a package of spaghetti threateningly at Buck which should not be this amusing and also not arousing but somehow, Buck feels both of those things. ”You need to watch yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>”No, what I <em>need </em>is a dentist appointment.” Buck closes his eyes for just a second because he feels like his body is actually completely shutting down for a moment there because of his own stupidity. Rest in peace, fun banter.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie frowns. ”Then make one?” Valid point. Buck’s non existent health care, unfortunately, does not cover dental emergencies, but valid point.</p><p> </p><p>”Absolutely,” Buck draws out and then looks at the freezer they stand in front of. If he climbed in there, he could just die in peace and this awkward conversation wouldn’t matter anymore. He turns to stand in front of it and then remembered that both of his hands are still overloaded with groceries so he can’t even open the freezer. Really, life is just unfair sometimes.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie looks from the freezer back to Buck and then shrugs. ”Hey, is that bread any good?” He says and somehow manages to make it sound natural like it isn’t just an introduction to a new topic to make them both forget that Buck can make everything super awkward like it’s his own special brand of superpower. ”I have never tried it!”</p><p>Neither has Buck, he picks his food by only one criteria: price.</p><p> </p><p>”Totally!” He nods and holds the bag with the bread up like it’s some rabbit he has hunted himself. He nearly drops the rest of the groceries he is carrying but it’s totally worth it.</p><p> </p><p>”Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>He has no fucking idea at all. ”Yes, absolutely, it’s the best.”</p><p> </p><p>So this is going really well. Now, how can Buck throw this absolute conversational curve ball into this talk? How can he casually turn this into a talk about pillows?</p><p> </p><p>”Hey, where did you buy the pillow?”</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes the easiest way to the point is straight forward, Buck guesses. Eddie’s face suggests otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>He frowns and then looks down to his shopping card like he expects to find a pillow there. It’s good that he doesn’t, Buck knows the pillows they sell here and he also knows you would get more of a soft rest just buying Q tips, they have more cotton than these damn pillows, really. Worst $3.99 ever spent.</p><p> </p><p>”What pillow?” Eddie asks as if there is a whole bunch of pillows Buck could be referring to.</p><p> </p><p>”The one you gave me,” Buck explains and begins to walk, Eddie next to him.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie laughs and then stops. ”Oh, you are serious!” Deadly so but Buck knows that he needs to chill the fuck out.</p><p>”Yeah,” he says casually like his life doesn’t depend on it. Heavy is the head that rests on anything but this stupid pillow.</p><p> </p><p>”Uhm, sure, I can check. It was some throw pillow I had lying around, but maybe I can find a tag on it somewhere.”</p><p> </p><p>”Yes, please, thank you.” Like the good boy he was absolutely not raised to be, while his head is screaming. A <em>throw pillow. </em>He can afford pillows for lying around decoratively. Buck doesn’t even have space for deco. They really should eat the rich. The rich but <em>not</em> mozzarella because the store doesn’t accept being pathetic and awkward as payment. Buck looks around and then inconspicuously puts the cheese into the next fridge they pass when Eddie looks at different kinds of fish sticks, sending a silent sorry to the worker who will have to bring it back. He has an act he needs to keep up.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Eddie puts two kinds of fish sticks into his cart and then turns to Buck, mouth already open to say something when his phone rings. Buck blinks and can only more or less stop himself from flinching. He hasn’t heard his phone ring since about 2010. Who even has their phone on anything but silent? Psychopaths.</p><p> </p><p>”Sorry, it’s about my son.” Oh, right, psychopaths and <em>parents.</em></p><p> </p><p>Buck makes an opening gesture with his hands as if he is allowing Eddie to take this phone call, like he is the boss of him which is just another just downright ridiculous thing that he is really happy that Eddie doesn’t even really seem to quite register. More people should do that, Buck is still traumatised from that one time when he walked into the kitchen back at home, yelling at the person who was just opening the fridge, thinking it was his sister. It was decidedly <em>not</em> his sister but a pretty cute friend of hers who looked at him like he was insane and then never came to visit again, so. Eddie really is checking all the boxes.</p><p> </p><p>”Is everybody ok?” Buck overheard Eddie say into his phone because, well, he is standing like 2 feet away from him it’s not like he can just turn his ears off or something. ”I am at the store. Right now?”</p><p> </p><p>There is quite a lot of fast talking on the other end of the phone and Buck really wishes he could hear what they are saying. So, he is noisy, who can blame him. He can’t afford Netflix, he needs to get his dramas elsewhere.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie sighs and Buck knows sighs like these, it’s the sound he makes every morning when his back hurts so bad he wonders if it is possible to be stabbed to death by his own spine.</p><p> </p><p>”I don’t have time to get groceries another time, I’ll be at work the next two days.” Eddie sighs again and Buck knows defeat when he hears it. <em>Two </em>sighs? Eddie might as well have just laid down on the floor, rolled into a ball and cried. Actually, sounds like a good plan, Buck might come back to it later. ”Yes. No, yes you are right. I know, okay? I’m figuring it out. Yes. I’ll be there in 10.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie looks like he is ready to sigh a third time, the poor man. ”Everything ok?” Buck asks like he cannot read the room. He gets good at things like that, it comes with all the experience he has from acting like he cannot read any bill ever.</p><p> </p><p>”I gotta run, my grandmother was watching my son and fell. She is okay but I need to get Chris.” Eddie looks at his grocery cart and then closes his eyes for a second. ”Fuck,” he says definitely just to himself and not with the intend of Buck hearing it. Well, Buck didn’t grow deaf in the past 2 minutes, though, so.</p><p> </p><p>”Should I get your groceries for you?” He asks, not even quite sure where that comes from. Maybe a panic reaction in his brain. Eddie might turn out to be the funny one in their whatever-they-were- not- quite-strangers relationship, so Buck is getting ready to be the nice one, apparently. He is an asshole by default, though, so he can’t wait to see how he’ll keep that up.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie does not look happy with that. It may be because it includes trusting an only slightly closer than a stranger with getting food for his family and also giving Buck money for it. Buck really wishes he was the kind of person who could be like <em>Oh, no, I can totally just get your stuff, don’t worry about it, no need to pay me back</em>, but sadly he is the person who would need the money up front, too, since there might be a universe where he can pay for all of the groceries in Eddie’s cart. Wouldn’t think twice about it either. Also, he’d probably be one of the assholes who packs everything in individual plastic bags and doesn’t smile at the cashier. He’d get in his car and then also leave his car again at some point to get into a house or something. But that is not this reality. Buck is gonna smile at the damn cashier and he is gonna sleep in his car and he does not have the money to buy Eddie’s things.</p><p> </p><p>”You really don’t have to do that,” Eddie says and gives him a painful smile. It’s tight and uncomfortable. Crazy how Eddie can afford to be a person who is not used to others helping him. Same goes for Buck but not because he chose so. He is not above using food stamps but the state is above giving them to him for more than 3 months, which, rude.</p><p> </p><p>”I can, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie is radiating uncomfortableness so much, Buck feels like he should wear protective gear. ”There’s still a lot of things I need. I can’t ask of you to run around the store for half an hour for me.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh, right. Grocery shopping a long time process for people. Buck normally walks in, looks what is cheapest and seems like it’s gonna keep his stomach full for as long as possible and then he leaves hoping he doesn’t look like he is stealing his body weight in canned food. Eddie has a shopping cart and little list in his hand and everything. Buck could probably not even afford he paper it is written on.</p><p> </p><p>”I don’t have any plans today, it would be no biggie.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie looks at Buck like he is absolutely insane. ”It’s a biggie, Buck, we don’t even know each other.”</p><p> </p><p>So, Eddie may think so. But Buck really had time to change his perspective on things after his pillow has given him hopes and dreams and shit for the first time in years.</p><p> </p><p>”Eddie,” Buck says, because let’s remind him about the fact that they may not be friends but they are also not strangers. Hey, he knows his name, dude, that’s basically being besties. ”I promise you, it would be no inconvenience for me. Like, at all.”</p><p> </p><p>”Really?” Eddie looks out of breath, somehow. He hasn’t moved in two minutes but he looks so stressed out and all over the place, he might as well have just finished a sprint. Being a parent looks exhausting. Buck frowns.</p><p> </p><p>”Yeah, dude, I got it.” So and now, just the uncomfortable part of it because of course there is one of those, there has to be. It’s his life after all. ”I’d need money for it, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Buck feels his ears heat up and there is already a whole movie worthy story filled with excuses and explanations as to why he needs to money up front on the tip of his tongue. Or, maybe, just that he has forgotten his wallet. Depending on the way Eddie answers, Buck can dish him a perfectly reasonable excuse.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie takes out his wallet and hands Buck two $100 bills. It’s really been a hot minute since he’s held some in his hand. He must look like he has stolen them, they don’t belong in his hands. ”Sure, here.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and then frowns and then also hands his list to Buck. ”Thank you. I mean it, you are saving my life.”</p><p> </p><p>And your pillow has saved mine, Buck doesn’t say because he now has a filter. Hopefully.</p><p> </p><p>”If I run away with it, you know where to find me.” Which is ironic, really, because he somehow is a honorable traveller kinda guy, even <em>he</em> doesn’t know where to find himself in the next hour.</p><p> </p><p>Eddie huffs out a laugh that sound involuntary and tired but honest. ”Not at a gas station, I bet.”</p><p>”Hilarious,” Buck deadpans and shoves the bills into his pockets, somehow not dropping his groceries which he is honestly surprised he still somehow carries and hasn’t dropped somewhere back in aisle 3, in what he hopes looks casual and like he does that all the time. He rarely has money to shove in pockets but he thinks he does okay.</p><p> </p><p>”I know, right,” Eddie grins and then turns to look in the direction of the exit. ”You are really saving me, thank you. Take your time, you can keep the change!”</p><p> </p><p>And with that, Eddie runs out of the store, actually in an impressive speed, Buck swears there is a hole in the air where he was standing a second ago. He also somehow manages not to look like he is stealing anything while leaving the store like it’s on fire, while Buck is sure he would have been tackled to the ground by security even after they watched him pay.</p><p> </p><p>So, now, what the hell is Apple Cider Vinegar and where are they hiding it?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi!<br/>I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!! Comments always make me super happy, so feel free to tell me what you thought. :-)'</p><p>Is this humor? Does it count? Is it my sarcastic braincell taking over? I - Normally not my writing style but I wanted to try something else and this is -- that.<br/>I am sorry.<br/>More angst coming though :-) We love hurt Buck in this house (but with all the comfort) !</p><p>(i had this lying around FOREVER and have another 25k written for it, but I actually wanted to work it over and edit and write the rest too before uploading but it has been so long since I started it, I figured better go for it! )<br/>And what better time than when you just want to sleep, bone tired dude, but have to stay up because signing up for classes starts at 12 and wow I will not be late and not get into the good ones, no sir.<br/>(yes I know that is not that late. I am still in my 'sleep early, get up early, study for exams' rhythm okay, I am just an exhausted student fhsjdhfs) </p><p>I signed up for my classes!! I can sleep!! </p><p>- Nick &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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